


ridiculous, beautiful hope

by spyydr



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuuin no Tsurugi | Fire Emblem: Binding Blade
Genre: Angst, Brief mentions of other characters - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyydr/pseuds/spyydr
Summary: Even in the depths of war, Fir finds a reason to believe.
Relationships: Fir/Shanna (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	ridiculous, beautiful hope

**Author's Note:**

> i am eternally cursed to care about fe6

The din of metal clangs and angry shouts slowly fades away as the battle comes to an end. But inside Fir’s head, it’s still loud, loud, loud. Dark crimson stains the edge of her blade and the front of her robes, the last mark of the lives she’s taken. It’s real. Horrifically real. It’s no longer an arena match, a harmless competition for sport and coin. People have died. And they’ve died at her hands.

“This can’t be happening,” Fir whispers to herself, over and over, as her eyes become rooted to the patch of ground before her. She can’t look up. She can’t look away. There’s nothing out there she wants to see.

She stands there, overwhelmed, until the sound of flapping wings shakes her from her paralyzed state. Shanna rides in from the sky, still atop her pegasus, clutching a lance in one hand and reins in the other. “Fir,” she asks, “are you okay?”

Fir can only shake her head. Where to start? She thought she was joining the army to improve her skills, to travel the world, to experience a little bit of life away from her loving but overprotective father. But instead, she’s been thrust into a nightmarish massacre.

Shanna guides her pegasus closer, and Fir finds herself looking at Shanna’s outstretched hand. “Come on,” she says, a sad smile on her face. “Let’s get back to camp. I’ll give you a ride.”

So Fir sheathes her sword and takes hold, pulling herself behind Shanna.

“You might want to hold on,” says Shanna, barely giving Fir enough time to wrap her arms around Shanna’s waist before her pegasus launches into the air. Fir is hardly able to stifle a scream as she watches the ground below drop farther and farther away.

“How do you do this all the time?” Fir has to shout to be heard over the wind.

Shanna looks back. “You’ll get used to it!”

Fir is about ready to abandon ship. She shakes her head and screams, “Like hell I will! Eyes on the sky!”

With a lopsided smile, Shanna turns again to face the front. “Aye aye, captain!” And with a quick snap of the reins, the pegasus swoops, turns, and dives. Fir, in turn, holds on for dear life, squeezes her eyes shut, and shoots off a quick prayer for good measure.

The next time Fir opens her eyes, they’ve landed. She’s never been so glad to be on the ground. “Get me off this winged horse,” she says. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“No need to be rude. Have you ever considered that maybe horses are just wingless pegasi?” Shanna clears her throat. “And, uh, I can’t help you get off if you won’t let me get off first.”

Fir realizes she’s been crushing Shanna’s waist in an airtight hug. Blushing, she lets go, and Shanna slides off in an easy, practiced motion. Once her feet hit the ground, she reaches for Fir’s hand. “Your turn.”

Fir takes her hand, awkwardly swinging one leg over the side of the saddle. Shanna moves closer, arms outstretched. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you.”

A leap of faith. That’s what her father would have called it. But her father’s ridiculous, anyways. She takes her trust wholeheartedly and all but falls into Shanna’s arms.

“Nice one. Let’s go get you patched up,” says Shanna. She grins, an easygoing, beautiful grin, and and it makes her freckles look like they’re glowing. Fir’s realizes she’s never even noticed her freckles before. Somehow, the thought makes her excited.

-

As luck would have it, Fir ends up on the same guard duty slot as Shanna. She’s skeptical about the idea of having two of the youngest soldiers patrol while everyone else is asleep, but Roy has assured her it will be fine. He says something about how age doesn’t determine skill. Since Roy is only a little older than her, she’s inclined to believe him.

Then again, watching Shanna twirl her lance like a baton gives Fir different ideas.

“Knock it off,” hisses Fir. “We’re supposed to be paying attention.”

“There’s nothing to pay attention to,” Shanna whispers back.

Fir chooses to ignore her. If she has to be the one to fight off a bandit attack by herself, then so be it. At least maybe she’ll finally feel like she’s saving lives in this war instead of acting as some expendable royal pawn.

The silence doesn’t last very long. Shanna tiptoes closer and says, quietly, “Do you want to switch weapons?”

“Do I want to… what?” Fir’s hand instinctively goes to her sword. Supposedly it was her mother’s, though she passed away before Fir was old enough to remember. Even so, she still feels a strong attachment to it. It’s not something she’d hand over so easily, especially not after so many thieves have tried and failed to steal it from her.

“You know, switch weapons. Just for a little bit. So you can hold my lance and I can hold your sword. For fun.” Shanna’s already holding out her lance earnestly.

Fir frowns. “And suppose enemy bandits launched an attack while we switched weapons. We’d probably be too startled to switch back, and that could lead to both of us being dead weight in a fight. We’re on patrol, not a playdate.”

“But I’m bored. Can we at least talk?” says Shanna. She pouts, not unlike a puppy. Fir, embarrassed, forces the thought out of her mind. Puppies are cute. Shanna is not. There is no room for comparison.

“Fine.” If only to distract Shanna from any other stupid harebrained ideas. She’s not going to volunteer any conversation, though. Fir’s never been much of a conversationalist.

“What are you planning on doing after this?” Shanna turns to Fir. “After the war, I mean.”

Fir doesn’t know which surprises her most: Shanna’s sudden topic change or the fact that she’s never given it much thought. She frowns. “I’m not sure. I’ll probably just continue doing what I was before. Traveling and challenging people to sword duels and all that.”

“Huh. You’re really into that whole ‘mastering the blade’ thing, right?” Shanna’s tone isn’t accusatory, just curious.

Fir nods. “I want to be as much like my mother as possible. She was a sword master, too.”

“Was? What happened?” asks Shanna.

“She’s dead.” A heavy silence fills the air, and Fir shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t really remember her.”

“Oh.” Shanna looks away, playing with the ribbon on her lance. After a moment, she says, “Same here. Both of my parents died right after I was born. My oldest sister, Juno, spent so much time looking after me and Thea. She was practically our mother. Although… I guess she’s actually a mother now.” A smile flickers across Shanna’s face. “She and her husband just had a baby girl. It’s incredible. I still can’t really believe I’m an aunt.”

Fir isn’t extremely well-versed in social situations. It must be the lone swordsman life. But hesitantly, she ventures, “...Congratulations?”

“I’m really happy,” says Shanna. “So when I’m done here, I’m going to see my niece. And both of my sisters.” The smile fades. “If they’re still alive.”

“Don’t talk like that. I’m sure they’ll be okay. My father’s probably looking for me, too, but he fought alongside Eliwood’s army back in the day. I think he can handle himself,” says Fir.

“Yeah. Of course.” Shanna smiles again, as if a positive outlook can force a happy ending. “They’ll be fine.”

-

Two weeks later, Shanna receives a letter saying Thea’s entire squadron has been slain by pirates. Not long after, another letter arrives, saying Juno has been executed for treason against the Bern-aligned pegasus knights. After that, Shanna refuses to leave her quarters. Several battles pass without her help. The cavaliers take turns looking after her pegasus. Occasionally, some of the other soldiers bring her food, but it’s never touched.

Eventually, Fir decides to check on Shanna. She’s not sure why. Grief is an awkward thing for Fir, and she’s never understood how to help others through it without coming off as callous or indifferent. She supposes it’s simply a result of her own personal experience with the loss of her mother. But since no one else is stepping up to help, it falls on Fir’s sense of personal duty to provide some sort of care.

That afternoon, she peeks into the tent. “Shanna?” asks Fir. “Is it okay for me to come in?”

There’s movement from underneath a small bundle of blankets lying on the floor. Shanna rolls over, her hair a mess and her eyes rimmed with red. She sighs. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to check on you,” says Fir.

“You and everyone else,” says Shanna. She rolls back over. “I’m fine, okay? Just leave me alone.”

Fir isn’t going to put up with this. She marches inside the tent, heading for Shanna. “People are out there worrying about you. People are out there wondering if you’re ever leaving this tent. And here you are, lying on your back -”

“My family is dead, Fir!” Shanna is suddenly on her feet, shoulders heaving with every angry breath. “My entire. Goddamn. Family! First my parents, and now my sisters. I have nothing! I… have nothing.” Shanna’s eyes go blank, and she falls to her knees. “They’re gone.” Tears slide down her cheeks. “They’re all really gone.”

Without thinking, Fir pulls Shanna into a tight hug. After a moment, Fir feels Shanna’s arms wrap around her waist, pulling her even closer.

“I’m sorry, Fir,” sobs Shanna. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you. It’s not your fault.”

Fir swallows. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I… I didn’t understand. I was being a jerk.”

They remain there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, for what feels like a long time. And then, hesitantly, Shanna breaks the silence. “Do you think we’ll ever get out of this war?”

Fir pulls back, looking into Shanna’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

Shanna stares at the ground. “Sometimes I feel like this will never be over. Like the only thing we can do is fight or die.”

“Don’t say that,” says Fir. When Shanna doesn’t respond, she gently places her hand on Shanna’s cheek. “Hey, look at me. You can’t say things like that.”

Shanna won’t return her gaze. “I don’t know if I should keep going.”

Her concern mounting, Fir takes Shanna’s hands in her own. “You have to keep going. Make me a promise,” begs Fir.

“Fir, there’s nothing left for me. There’s nothing left for me to do,” says Shanna. She finally looks up, blinking back tears.

“Promise me,” says Fir. “Promise me you’ll live to see the end of this war. You and I. We’ll make it out of here.”

Shanna squeezes her hands a little tighter. “And then what?”

“And then… and then we’ll live together. In a cozy little cabin, somewhere far away from this,” says Fir.

“Just the two of us?” whispers Shanna.

Fir nods. “Just the two of us. And… and we can name all the birds in the forest, because they’ll be our friends. And we’ll have a nice little garden behind our home, where we’ll plant vegetables for food and flowers for decoration. And sometimes, I’ll go out into the forest and hunt, and I’ll bring home dinner for both of us.”

Shanna’s eyes light up as she begins to catch on. “And I can chop firewood for the fire. We’ll have have a cozy little fireplace, warm enough for our entire house.”

“And we’ll cook our dinner over the fireplace at night,” says Fir. “We can take turns. I’ll make my favorite foods, and you can make yours, and we’ll share them with each other.”

“And once we’re done eating, we’ll curl up with blankets and watch the stars until we fall asleep.”

“And we’ll never have to fight again.” Fir can barely bring herself to dream of something so beautiful. But it might just be what Shanna needs to hear. “Promise?”

Fir finds herself holding her breath, waiting for Shanna’s answer. And then, for the first time in weeks, Shanna smiles. “I promise.”

-

With a thud, Fir hits the ground, scraping her hands on the dry, rocky dirt. Slowly, she pulls herself into a sitting position and looks over her arms. It’s been a while since she took a fall like that. The small cuts on her arms, left by the rough ground, are starting to bleed.

“Oh gods, are you okay?” Shanna throws aside her lance and kneels next to Fir, checking over her hands. “That looked really bad. Gods, I’m so sorry.”

Fir shakes her head, gently pulling herself out of Shanna’s grasp. She’s never needed help in a sparring match. She can take care of this herself. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep going.”

“Don’t be stupid,” says Shanna. “You’re in no condition to keep fighting.”

“Yes, I am,” says Fir, refusing to budge. “I’ve taken hits much, much worse than this.” She struggles to her feet, only to collapse into Shanna’s arms.

Shanna gently sets her down. “You’re still a little out of it from the fall. Just take a minute. Breathe.” She takes a small step away. “And don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Though she rolls her eyes, Fir does as she’s told. For all her stubborn bravado, she has to admit that it hurts more than she expected. It’s probably her fault for choosing to spar near the stables, and for choosing a lance wielder as her partner. The longer reach, combined with Shanna’s height advantage, aren’t doing any favors for Fir’s chances of winning.

Then again, she doesn’t get a choice on who she faces off against on the battlefield. If she really were to end up opposite a lancer, what would she do? Maybe she could use her speed and agility to her advantage, and wait for the right time to strike. Or she could make sure to have a lancereaver with her. Or she could…

Before Fir can spiral even further into her analysis, Shanna returns, carrying a small bag from the healer’s tent. She places the bag at Fir’s feet, then takes out a small jar of salve.

“Hold still. This’ll probably sting a little,” says Shanna, spreading the balm onto Fir’s cuts.

It does indeed burn where it makes contact with her wounds, but she stays calm and silent, instead focusing on Shanna’s warm hands. Fir has always prided herself on being a fearless, independent warrior, but in all honesty, it’s nice be taken care of, for once.

Once done with the salve, Shanna takes out a roll of white bandage. “Okay, talk to me while I do this, because it might take a while.”

“Why, are you bad at wrapping bandages?” teases Fir.

“Mostly just wrapping things in general,” says Shanna. “You should see some of the Winter Festival gifts I’ve made for other people. The packages are awful.”

Fir laughs, envisioning the oddly-shaped blocks of colorful paper and ribbon. “And they still accepted your gifts?”

Shanna pouts. “Ha ha, very funny. Of course they did! It’s the thought that counts, you know.”

“I was almost going to ask you why you didn’t sign on as a medic, seeing as you seem to be good with all this healing stuff,” says Fir. “Now I know why.”

“Hey, coordination is hard sometimes,” protests Shanna. She continues on with the bandage, leaving Fir’s arms in a lumpy cloth cocoon. “And like I said, the outside doesn’t matter. It’s what’s inside that actually makes people happy.”

“I’ll have to judge that for myself,” says Fir. “Any chance I’ll be getting a present from you this year?”

Even though Shanna doesn’t look up from her work, Fir can see a hint of her smile. “If I were you, I wouldn’t expect too much. But you can count on it.”

-

Fir can feel the grass around her face, rustling softly in the night breeze. It’s slightly damp from the fog that rolled in earlier, and it tickles when the rough blades brush past her cheeks. Above her stretched-out form, the stars reach out endlessly, an expanse that she longs to fly away into. Anything to escape the bloodshed and tragedy and murder.

Shanna shifts beside her. She props herself up on an elbow, carefully extracts a stick from under her back, and flops back down. “The stars are beautiful here,” Shanna remarks. “Way better than back home.”

“Really? I thought the stars were clearest up in the mountains. It’s closer to the sky, after all,” says Fir.

“It’s almost always snowing, so you can’t really see them anyways. And if it isn’t, the trees get in the way.” Shanna waves an arm out at the plains. “But here? There’s nothing blocking the sky. It’s like it goes on forever.”

Fir nods, even though she knows Shanna can’t see it. “I never thought of that.” She pauses, remembering. “We should head back to camp. They’re probably wondering where we are.”

“Just a few more minutes? Please?” begs Shanna. And then, quieter, “I wish we could stay here forever.”

A silence fills the space between them, a painful sense of sadness too deep for either of them to express. Fir knows what Shanna means. She’s not looking to escape from her responsibilities, but from the war altogether.

Shanna suddenly slams her fist on the ground. “We’re going to make it out alive, Fir. I swear on Saint Elimine’s grave, we’re going to make it out of this war and I’ll build that cabin with my own two hands and we’re going to live together, in the woods, just the two of us. And no one will ever bother us, or yell at us, or try to kill us ever again. I promise!” Her cry echoes, wavering on the edge of tears, before fading into the darkness. “I promise.”

A lump forms in Fir’s throat, and she feels Shanna’s arm softly resting against her own. Despite the chill, Shanna is warm. She feels safe. Comfortable. Someone who will protect Fir until the very end. And somehow, impossibly, Fir dares to believe it.

Slowly, with a trembling hand, Shanna laces her fingers between Fir’s. A moment passes. Then two. And Fir remembers to breathe.

And when Fir gazes over at Shanna, she sees the reflection of the dark night sky above, the twinkling of millions and millions of stars in her eyes, the sparkling of ridiculous, beautiful hope.

-

Fir knew it was coming.

She knew when Dieck was pinned down under enemy fire. She knew when Shanna disobeyed orders and flew over to save him. And she knew when the archers turned their attention to the target in the sky.

And still, she can do nothing.

One moment, Shanna is a lively blur of white and blue, nimbly dodging arrows atop her pegasus. And the next, an arrow has pierced her chest, and she is a comet, tumbling towards earth, downy feathers trailing behind her.

Fir doesn’t remember screaming. She doesn’t remember wrenching her arm from her commander’s grasp, or dashing away from her army, or desperately tearing across the battlefield, arms outstretched, hoping to every god she can think of that she’ll make it in time.

Fir only remembers stepping into a small forest clearing and kneeling next to the broken girl on the ground. She remembers the whispered apology, the uneven breath, the last smile Shanna ever gave her. She remembers the life flickering out of her bright, beautiful eyes. And then Shanna grows still.

With one trembling arm, Fir cradles the body, and with the other, she lifts a lifeless hand and kisses it, gently.

And there she sits, sobbing, as the war rages on around her.


End file.
